


The scary thing called adolescence

by NiciJones



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alpha Illya, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Napoleon, Short One Shot, highschool!au, presenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiciJones/pseuds/NiciJones
Summary: Napoleon texts Illya in the evening calling for help. The Russian is worried for his best friend and immediately hurries over to see what is wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdyneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyneko/gifts).



> I wrote this little short to cheer up nerdyneko. Then I posted it on our blog and well... Then I thought I might as well post it here since it did escalate a bit.
> 
> Our blog about Napollya and Havill (Armie Hammer/Henry Cavill): [Napollya Inspiration](http://napollya-inspiration.tumblr.com/)

￼Illya would never forget that day. The first thing was the texts he got.   
'Illya?'  
'Can you come over?'  
Nothing more than that. He wondered.   
And worried of course, so he hurried over as quick as possible. When he came to the house of the Solos, Napoleon's mother opened the door and let him in.   
"Napoleon?" He asked breathlessly from running.   
"Oh, I haven't seen him all day. He's in his room, though. I thought maybe he was lovesick." She smiled at Illya. She was kind but there was a distance between her and her son. But she knew the Russian was a source of comfort for Napoleon.   
"Ok. Thank you, Ms Solo." He hurried off to Napoleon's room. 

"Napoleon, are you there?" He knocked softly.   
"Illya?" Came a weak voice through the wood.   
The Russian gulped. What was expecting him in there? It must be bad. Napoleon never showed weakness. Not even to him or Gaby. They learned to see the little signs of course but this... his gut clenched. "Yes. It's I." He said and heard a key being turned.   
Napoleon looked bad. Really bad. Especially considering that he usually wasted a lot of energy on looking good. Thankfully he had no obvious injuries. Illya sniffed the air. The scent of an omega hung in the air. It tweaked something in his gut. It must be biological compatibility with his alpha parts and the omega. It had the hair standing on his neck and his nose flaring for more. But he had to assume it was one of Napoleon's old conquests. So Ms Solo had been right. Napoleon had had some kind of female visitor. And now he was mourning.   
"Cowboy?" He was wrapped in a turtleneck too big for his frame. Illya faintly recognised it as his own. He had been looking for it for awhile.   
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you come over. It was stupid." Napoleon apologised, hugging himself tighter. Something was terribly wrong. He had red rings around his eyes like he had cried for hours.   
"Who broke your heart, Cowboy?" Illya asked, closing the door behind him.  
"Broke my heart?" Napoleon sniffled. "What are you talking about?"   
"Well, there is omega in air. Your mother told me, it was, what she was thinking. You are clearly upset." He pointed out.   
Napoleon's eyes had widened. "No Illya. Nothing like that. If it only it were." He let out a dry laugh. And then blurted out without further explanation, "I'm an omega."  
It took Illya a moment to comprehend what he had meant. "What?" He said dumbly.   
"You heard right! I'm an omega! So what? Then I am a weakling that craves nothing but a cock filling him! They always said I'm a whore! Fucking around before even presenting." There were fresh tears streaming down Napoleon's face now.   
Illya slowly understood what it meant. The expanse of this revelation. Napoleon would have to change the school! He would have to go to special doctors. He would be mated and claimed by someone. And last and most disturbing of all: the scent Illya had been smelling, was still smelling, it was his. It was Napoleon’s. He chose to ignore it. Chose to not give it the power to change anything. Napoleon was his friend. His best friend. So he walked over and took him in his arms like Gaby had told him was comforting. Both arms wound tight around him, holding him safely and secure.   
He nearly didn't hear Napoleon's soft "no" as he clenched his hands into his shirt. "What? Am I doing it wrong?" Illya asked concerned.   
"No! I- it's just-” Napoleon squirmed. Illya could feel his face tilt upwards and his nose burying under his jaw. "Your scent."   
There was a soft whimper and Illya felt goosebumps crawling up his back, realising Napoleon was feeling the same. The prickle ghosting over his nerve endings was the same Illya felt. Of course. It mostly went both ways.   
"Cowboy…" Illya said helplessly.   
"No. Please. I need…" Napoleon started clawing at his clothes. When he didn't have any success he pulled Illya's turtleneck over his own head. Now it dawned on the alpha why he had been wearing it.   
"That's mine." He said offhandedly.   
Napoleon whined. "Yours." He answered dizzily, rubbing his face into Illya's shirt.   
"No, I meant…" When he felt Napoleon's hands tighten painfully on where he was clutching on his shirt he stopped himself. "Never mind."  
"Please, Illya. I'm so afraid." Napoleon begged again.   
Well, that Illya could clearly see. The omega was trembling, overwhelmed by what he was feeling. Illya shared that in a way. Never before had he felt this - belonging, possessive, protective - by just smelling a scent. He wanted to help, although he couldn't say if it was his rational mind speaking or his instincts. No one was going to answer that for him. So how about he just followed that urge? They both seemed to need it at the moment.   
Gently he pulled Napoleon back, who had even drooled on his shirt and pulled him back, ignoring the hiss he got and the hands clawing for him to come back.   
"Hush. It is good," he tried to soothe Napoleon while he felt his mind getting more clouded every second.  
The omega was back at him immediately, searching for his scent spot and Illya couldn't think of a reason to stop him. He tilted his head and went searching for Napoleon's own. When the sweet scent completely filled his nose he growled and gripped Napoleon by his hips. A little whelp escaped the other and the alpha purred.  
"Please. Hold me, Illya," the omega pleaded and Illya came back to his senses.  
"Of course, pup." He guided him to his bed and moved to lay beside him.  
Napoleon immediately rolled over and buried his nose under his chin again.   
Illya let him, of course, resting his head on the curls and holding him tightly. He could smell all the confusion and fear Napoleon was feeling.  
"I am here for you, Cowboy." He promised and pressed a little kiss to his forehead. Eventually they fell asleep like that. 

Illya was woken by a phone ringing. He could feel Napoleon still pressed against him; their fingers entwined and lying on his chest; his little breaths puffing against his neck. He reached with his free hand for the phone and accepted the call blindly.   
"Yes?" He asked in a sleepy voice.   
"Illya?" Gaby.   
"Of course. You called me, no?" He asked.   
"No. I called Napoleon." She said slowly.   
"Oh." Illya squinted down at Cowboy steering in his sleep. He drew soothing circles on the back of his hand to calm him.   
"Well, you can't speak with him right now. Shall I tell him something?" He asked.   
"Nah I was just trying to annoy him by calling at this unholy hour. What are you even doing at his place at such an hour? You boys seem too old for sleepovers." She demanded to know.   
"How can you be too old for sleepovers?" Illya asked innocently.  
"Because, Illya, when you reach a certain age you prefer to only share the bed with partners of the sexual kind," Gaby explained patiently.  
"That's bullshit," he simply said.   
"Well, where is Napoleon then? Has he left the phone with you in the living room where you have been sleeping on the couch? I know for a fact that Cowboy would never give up his bed. Is he showering? But no he would never get up at such an hour." She mused.   
"Don't call him Cowboy. That's my nickname for him. And yes I'm sleeping on the couch. " Illya said sharply.   
In that moment Napoleon lifted his head. "Illya?" He asked sleepily.   
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep." Illya soothed him freeing his fingers and changing the phone in that hand and rubbing Napoleon's back with his other hand.   
"Couch huh?" Gaby said teasingly.   
"Shut up," Illya told her.   
"Gaby?" Napoleon asked with a little smile.   
"Yes. She's being annoying." Illya explained.   
"Oi! Shut your mouth, Russian!" Gaby said exasperatedly.   
Napoleon smiled and lay his head back on Illya's chest.   
"Tell her that we are perfectly fine and don't need her help."  
"At least wear protection, you dumbasses!" Gaby said and ended the call.   
Illya rolled his eyes and threw the phone back on the nightstand.  
Napoleon frowned. "Gentle, you lump. That was expensive." He had closed his eyes again.   
"Napoleon-" Illya started but Napoleon just lay a hand over his mouth.  
"No, shut up. You are going to wake me up fully and I don't need that on a weekend. Just sleep. Or be quiet." He then snuggled in against his side again.   
Illya looked at him and sighed fondly closing his own eyes and tightening his hold on him. After a moment of silence, he felt Napoleon's less long fingers slipping between his again. Napoleon was right. They had time enough to figure out what this all meant. Now it was just important they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned a few things in the text that are part of the a/b/o canon like we imagine it. For example that omegas have to go to different schools, have to visit special doctors comparable to the women's doctor we know. And if anyone is interested we consider Gaby a beta. A strong one though.


End file.
